


Halcyon Days

by poetroe



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spy, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Raydia, and a whole lot of kisses, and the cool necklace she has, art gallery openings, claudia is a rich heiress, rayla is the spy hired to protect her, sparring sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetroe/pseuds/poetroe
Summary: “Rayla keeps her hands where the girl put them, for a little while. She doesn’t know what compels her to do it; her mission is over, she should get back to headquarters. Maybe it’s because the girl insisted in that captivatingly raspy voice, or that the way she lays her head on Rayla’s shoulder has her scared to move away. Maybe it’s the soft kiss pressed to the place where the skin of her throat meets her neck, below her jaw, so light that a part of her thinks she’s imagined it.”Rayla meets a drunk girl on one of her missions, who manages to spill wine all over her.Claudia meets a handsome stranger at a party, and proceeds to spill wine all over her.Things progress from there.





	Halcyon Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkwelled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/gifts).



> this took me so long but it was so WORTH IT !!! i'm very proud of how this turned out. special thanks to ames, who got me into raydia and tdp in the first place, and who has been screaming about them with me throughout my writing process. this one is for u !!! and at whoever's reading this i hope y'all like it !!

“Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, since I have entered into these wars.” – Joan La Pucelle in _Henry VI_ (1.2.137-38).

***

It’s the biggest house on the street, grand and imposing, with several expensive-looking, foreign cars in the driveway. The fundraiser must be finished, judging from the loud pounding of a song’s drums coming from inside, turning the event from a luxury affair to an ordinary house party. Rayla straightens the collar of her shirt, wipes the creases from her blazer and steps inside.

Her target, like many always are, is a high profile, white collar criminal. Even among this crowd of well dressed upper class, he’s easy to pick out. That’s the difference between old money and new money, Rayla supposes as she grabs a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. Old money brings a certain comfort in wealth, whereas new money feels the need to flaunt it. The man in question is tall, a little on the chubby side and adorned with golden rings on every finger, a thick golden chain around his neck and, when he boisterously laughs at something the woman next to him says, a golden canine in his mouth.

Rayla moves through the crowd like water, brushing against people but remaining unnoticeable. Her objective on this mission is simple. Enter the party, swipe the man’s phone from his pocket and get out, all completely hidden in plain sight. That part is going pretty great, until Rayla sees a girl stumble in her peripheral vision. She turns, intending to move out of the way and continue her trek through this mob, but she’s too slow, and—

The girl steps on her foot, dumps her glass of red wine all over Rayla’s impeccably white dress shirt and then proceeds to fall into her arms. Rayla’s body reacts automatically as she grasps onto the girl’s arms, steadying her, before observing the girl who just stained her shirt beyond repair. She seems to be around Rayla’s age, with pale green eyes and dark hair that’s a faded purple, at the ends. Moreover, judging from the way she’s still off balance and her eyes are glazed over as she looks up at Rayla, she’s very drunk.

“Uh—” The girl interrupts herself with a hiccup. Rayla can only watch, frozen and acutely aware of how at least half of all the eyes in the room are on them. “Sorry,” the girl mutters, grinning. So much for being hidden in plain sight.

“That’s okay,” Rayla says with a frown, before dropping the girl’s arms. To her surprise, instead of stepping back out of her personal space, the girl grabs onto her hand instead and starts dragging her through the room, to another part of the house. Before Rayla knows what’s happening they’re marching through the foyer, at a speed that’s honestly impressive for a drunk girl, to the kitchen.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, the girl drops her hand and starts opening cabinets and rummaging through them.

“Uh, I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here,” Rayla says. Every bone in her body is currently telling her to get out of here, where she’s so exposed, away from the safety of being in a throng of people.

“It’s okay,” the girl says as she drops a glass. Rayla winces as it shatters on the tiled floor. “My dad is besties with the guy who owns this place.” This makes Rayla pause. Drunk girl’s father is close to the prime minister? Just then the girl finds what she’s looking for; a salt shaker. With an excited yelp she jumps off the kitchen counter and steps right back into Rayla’s space. She doesn’t wait for Rayla to say anything, going straight to pouring the salt on the dress shirt and rubbing it on the stain with her thumb. Rayla can feel the blood rush to her cheeks at the intimacy of the girl basically rubbing salt all over her chest, so she grabs the girl’s hands and pulls them down.

“It’s a little beyond saving, I think,” she murmurs when the girl looks up at her with an impressive pout. She doesn’t react apart from continuing to stare at Rayla with a sort of dumbstruck expression in those jade eyes, her hands soft and still in Rayla’s, the only sound in the empty kitchen being the music and murmurs of conversation bleeding through the door. They seem to be trapped in the moment, because for some reason Rayla can’t get herself to look away, either.

Then the song changes, leading to a flicker or recognition in drunk girl’s eyes, and she starts grinning.

“I absolutely _love_ this song,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as her grip on Rayla’s hands tightens. “Wanna dance?” Rayla snorts.

“I don’t think I can get back to the party looking like this, honestly,” she says. It’s true; she’s already drawn too much attention to herself tonight. Getting that phone is never going to happen, now.

“That’s okay,” the girl says with a grin, stepping close while she moves her hands backwards, joining Rayla’s hands together at the small of her back. Then she places her own hands on Rayla’s arms and starts swaying slowly, not at all to the beat of the music.

Rayla keeps her hands where the girl put them, for a little while. She doesn’t know what compels her to do it; her mission is over, she should get back to headquarters. Maybe it’s because the girl insisted in that captivatingly raspy voice, or that the way she lays her head on Rayla’s shoulder has her scared to move away. Maybe it’s the soft kiss pressed to the place where the skin of her throat meets her neck, below her jaw, so light that a part of her thinks she’s imagined it.

But then the song changes, and somewhere in another part of the house someone breaks something, and Rayla pulls away.

***

A harsh knock on her door startles Claudia awake. Immediately a wave of nausea comes over her, so she turns around to her stomach, face hidden in the pillow as she groans and waits for it to pass.

“Claudia!” Soren’s voice booms right through the door. “Get up, dad wants to talk to us.” Claudia rolls her eyes and glances at her alarm clock. It’s almost ten, which means she’s had about six hours of sleep tonight. Not all that bad, she thinks as she sits up straight, reaching for the glass of water on her nightstand and downing it in one go.

It all goes a little slower with the hangover she’s nursing, but eventually Claudia manages to shower, put on some clothes and get her necklace from the wooden box in her vanity, where she carefully stored it before going to bed last night. A cup of coffee seems to do wonders for her state of being and Claudia is finally feeling more like herself when she walks behind Soren, climbing the stairs to their father’s study.

Or maybe not, because when Claudia steps into the room after her brother, she’s hit with a strange whiplash that instantly makes her a little nauseous again. Her father is sitting in his office chair and next to him, in front of the wide windows, stand a tall man and the whitehaired girl from last night. Her eyes fall on Claudia, who instantly freezes.

She had halfway convinced herself she had imagined spilling wine and rubbing salt all over this girl, with dark skin, white hair and features so beautiful that it’s just unfair, honestly. But here she stands, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, with her hands clasped behind her back and her face twisting into a small frown as the recognition washes over it. Claudia exhales a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, and moves to sit next to Soren in one of the two chairs in front of their father’s desk.

“Good of you to finally join us, Claudia,” her dad says, sounding slightly annoyed, but Claudia just sends him a challenging smile as she crosses her legs.

“Of course,” she answers. Her eyes flicker back to the girl, whose expression has smoothed over into something a little more neutral. “So what’s up?”

“I see you’re wearing the necklace I gave you,” her father says. “Just like last night. When I gave it to you, I was under the expression you would keep it _safe_.”

“Oh.” Claudia looks down at the necklace. “I thought you meant that in the ‘don’t lose it in your jewelry drawer’ kind of way.” On the other side of the desk, her father sighs.

“I meant it in the ‘keep it out of sight’ kind of way,” he says. “You know how valuable it is, even more on the black market than in auction houses. Wearing it out in the open like that… it was reckless.” Claudia is about to protest, but Soren is quicker.

“Wait,” he says, glancing at the blue stone hanging from the delicate silver chain around Claudia’s neck. “What’s so special about this old thing?”

“This old thing,” Claudia responds, fingers finding the stone almost instantly, “is made with one of the rarest minerals to be found on earth. It’s called the Dragon Egg. And—” She directs the next part at her dad with a raised eyebrow. “It’s very sought after by thieves, apparently. Which, you could’ve told me about.” Her father sighs.

“Yes. But now you’ve been spotted wearing it to the prime minister’s party by several tabloid outlets, and I’m afraid your safety has been compromised. Which is why I’ve hired the very best private security contractor money can buy.” At that, the man steps forward. His eyes are blue, turning into a vibrant green around the iris, and they’re looking at Claudia intently.

“I’m Runaan,” he says. “I’ll be going over the technicalities and details of your protection detail with Viren. Things like adequate precautions concerning information, transport and the safehouse, of course.” Claudia’s eyes widen and her hand closes around the Dragon Egg. It hardly fits in her hand.

“Safehouse?” she asks to no one in particular, because her dad stays quiet and Runaan simply continues his explanation.

“This is Rayla.” He motions to the girl next to him, the girl from last night, and knowing her name does give Claudia a little comfort in this crazy situation. “She’ll be your personal bodyguard, for the time being,” Runaan continues. “She’s a trained assassin and a skilled fighter, in spite of her age.”

“An assassin?” Soren suddenly erupts, eyes wide. “Really?” Runaan, who has been looking awfully serious throughout the conversation, pulls the corner of his mouth up into a smirk.

“Not really,” he answers. “But she does fight like one. So rest assured. You’re in good hands.”

The rest of the meeting is about checkpoints, safety measures and other things that need to be arranged, and Claudia tunes out. She’s still tired and a little hungover, so she doesn’t even notice when everything is done and is quite literally pulled from her daydreaming, by Soren pulling her up from the chair by her arm.

And from that moment onward, Rayla doesn’t leave her side.

***

The first fifteen minutes of the drive to the safehouse pass in complete silence. Rayla passes the time by looking at the scenery through the tinted, bulletproof windows of the car, not thinking about anything in particular. Of course, the silence doesn’t last.

“So,” Claudia says, eventually. “How are you?” Rayla turns her head to look at her, a little skeptically. Claudia returns the look. “What, am I not supposed to talk to you?”

“No, that’s alright,” Rayla answers. It’s just that the previous people she’s guarded had more important people to talk to. “I’m okay. Better than you, I suppose.” A small grimace appears on her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m _fine_ ,” Claudia says, grinning and waving Rayla’s question away. “Totally fine. Nothing I can’t handle, and a cup of coffee does wonders for a hangover, you know.”

“Right,” Rayla answers, with a small smile. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even remember me.” Claudia’s smirk widens and her green eyes get a mischievous glint in them.

“But of course,” she drawls, leaning forward, into Rayla’s space. “Dancing with a handsome stranger? How could I forget?” Rayla feels her cheeks flush and turns her gaze back to the passing trees outside. Her mind goes back to an innocent kiss, pressed unprompted to her neck.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“Very,” Claudia answers. She leans back in her seat. “And you were the only one who danced with me when I asked.” When Rayla finally feels brave enough to look back at Claudia, the other girl has slumped against the window, her eyes closed and snoring softly. It’s such a contrast to the confident demeanor from earlier that Rayla can’t help but smile at the sight.

The safehouse is a painstakingly ordinary, small two bedroom house, one of many in an even more ordinary street. Rayla has already memorized the floor plan; a small living room and a kitchen on the ground floor, with the two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. The bedroom on the right is already modified into a glorified supply closet, complete with weapons and all the surveillance and spy tech she could possibly need. That leaves the bedroom on the left for Claudia to sleep in.

“Wow,” Claudia says as she enters the living room behind Rayla. “This seems awfully… mundane?”

“Did you expect anything less from a safehouse?” Rayla counters. “We’re supposed to keep you and your fancy necklace out of sight, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Claudia says as she plops down on the brown sofa. “I guess I just expected some high-tech bunker, located somewhere on a super-secret hidden base on a mountain, or something.”

“I think you’ve watched too many spy flics,” Rayla answers with a coy smile. She reaches for the remote on the salon table and turns on the tv, setting the channel to some cooking show. “Our organization specializes in stealth. Both on solo missions and protection operations, like this.”

“Hold on,” Claudia says then, resting her arms on her knees and leaning forward as she gives Rayla her undivided attention. On the tv, the show has made way for commercials but neither Rayla or Claudia pay it any attention. “Were you on a mission last night?” Rayla clamps her lips shut and looks away.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Right,” Claudia grins, “or you’ll have to kill me?” Rayla snorts.

“Or I’ll get _fired_ ,” she says with a little grin of her own. “It’s not like I’m James Bond.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Claudia says. That flirtatious grin from the car ride is back and Rayla can feel her cheeks heat up again. Apparently a pretty girl, a smug grin and one little kiss are all it takes to get her flustered, and she despises it. Suddenly eager to get away from Claudia and this conversation, Rayla stands up.

“I’m going to check on the preparations Runaan’s made,” she mutters as she walks out, without looking back.

Rayla busies herself with checking the weapons and the ammunition in the second bedroom; adding to the already elaborate network of security cameras around the house; and securing the perimeter and any other possible access routes to house, with the exception of the front door. It takes up a significant portion of the day and by the time Rayla gets back to the living room, darkness has already fallen. Claudia is laying on the couch, eyes glued to a nature documentary on the tv, with a plate of half eaten spaghetti sitting on the salon table.

“Looks like everything is secure,” Rayla says as she sits on the edge of the couch where Claudia’s feet are resting, if only to announce her return.

“Good,” Claudia hums. The documentary leaves the steppes of sub-Saharan Africa behind for Siberia above the polar circle and Claudia turns her attention to Rayla. “So I took a quick tour of the house when you were outside,” she says, “and I noticed there’s only one bedroom. At least, one that isn’t filled with guns and rifles.”

“That’s right. It’s yours, I sleep here,” Rayla says as she pats the sofa twice. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve slept under far more dire circumstances than this.” Claudia yawns once, then stretches out on the couch, her feet pressing against the side of Rayla’s thigh as she does so.

“Still,” she says. “The bed is big enough for two. Come sleep with me.”

“I can’t do that,” Rayla says, “I’m your bodyguard, Claudia.”

“So?” Claudia counters with a grin that spells trouble. “What if someone attacks me in the night?”

“They won’t. I just secured all the windows,” Rayla answers. “The only way to you is through the front door, leading them past me.”

“What if the threat isn’t physical?” Claudia continues. “What if I fall victim to a terrible, crippling nightmare, with no one there to wake me up?” That has Rayla momentarily stumped. A part of her wants to tell Claudia that nightmares would be her own problem to deal with, but the part of her that has genuinely liked Claudia from the moment they first met stops that thought immediately. So she stays quiet and Claudia’s grin widens, no doubt taking her silence as a victory. The black haired girl turns off the tv, before standing up from the sofa and holding her hand out for her to take. “Come on, Rayla,” she says, sounding soft and kind, green eyes shining despite the dim light in the living room. “Let’s go to bed.”

***

When Claudia wakes up the next morning, Rayla is already gone. It doesn’t really come as a surprise to Claudia, after seeing how flustered Rayla can get and after waking up once during the night to her forehead pressed against Rayla’s back. Maybe asking her to sleep together wasn’t her brightest idea, but making her newest spy bodyguard blush has to be one of the most entertaining things Claudia has ever done. With a satisfied smile on her face, Claudia gets dressed and makes her way downstairs.

“Good morning,” she mutters as she passes Rayla in their tiny kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine.

“Hey,” Rayla says around a mouthful of strawberries. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” Claudia groans as she goes through the motions of preparing her coffee, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets and pressing the buttons that will make her a perfect cup of hot brown morning potion.

“Can it wait?” she grumbles as the machine starts whirring.

“Wow,” Rayla answers, observing her with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing around her lips. “Not a morning person, huh?” Claudia shrugs.

“Not until I’ve had some coffee,” she answers, taking a sip of the still searing hot liquid, sighing contently as the bitter swill burns its way down her throat. “Ah. That’s better.” Claudia leans back against the counter, observing Rayla with her mug between her hands. “What did you want to discuss?”

“It’s something Runaan suggested,” Rayla says as she puts some stuff away in the dishwasher. “He thought it’d be… _prudent_ , for you to learn some self-defense. His words, not mine.”

“And do you think that will be necessary?” Claudia asks. Training doesn’t sound like a particularly pleasant way to spend her first day in the safehouse, especially when she had already been planning a very productive day of hanging out, watching a handful of movies and doing absolutely nothing. Rayla just shrugs.

“You have me, of course,” she starts. Claudia grins over the rim of her mug.

“Of course.”

“But the actual amount of danger you’re in isn’t that clear,” Rayla continues. She crosses her arms and mirrors Claudia’s stance. “It could be that your father overreacted. But he could also be right, or even underestimating the threat. There’s a possibility they’ll come at us with more men I can handle on my own, in which case…”

“Ugh,” Claudia groans. “I’d have to fight.” Rayla grins and pushes away from the counter, slapping Claudia on the shoulder playfully.

“Come on,” she says. “Finish your coffee. Runaan brought over some mats this morning, so we can get right to work.”

“Ugh,” Claudia says again. “Do we have to?” Rayla’s grin widens as she grabs Claudia’s biscep and tugs her to the living room.

“Yes.”

The salon table and the couch have made way for six grey, rectangular mats, arranged in a square. Claudia crouches down hesitantly and pats at the surface.

“Are you sure this is safe to fall on?” she asks. Rayla, apparently, feels the need to demonstrate and jumps, diving headfirst towards the mat, catching herself with her arms and moving into a roll forward, ending in a crouch.

“Pretty sure,” she grins, and Claudia rolls her eyes at her bodyguard’s showing off.

“Okay then,” she says, stepping onto the mat and crossing her arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

“First off, let’s do something about your stance,” Rayla says, gently grasping her arms and untangling them. Then she moves her hands to Claudia’s shoulders. “Spread your legs some more,” she continues, tapping Claudia’s ankles with her foot. “Your feet should be directly under your shoulders. Bend your knees a little—yes, nice.” Rayla takes a step back, observing Claudia with a content smile. “This is a strong stance, which also lowers your center of gravity, meaning you won’t get pushed over easily.” Claudia looks down at her feet for a bit. Her pink socks look a little out of place on the grey mats.

“Oh. Cool.”

“Now, onto self-defense,” Rayla continues. “You should always go for your enemy’s weaknesses, which are the eyes, the nose, the throat, the knees and, of course, the groin. When someone attacks you, don’t hesitate. Just punch or kick the one that’s closest to you.”

“Just like that?” Claudia asks. It sounds almost too simple. “Isn’t there more to fighting?” Rayla just shrugs.

“Yeah, but those are the basics. Like I said, you probably won’t need to use them since I’ll be here, but… just in case. Okay, now take those socks off,” Rayla says, smile widening. “We’re going to try some sparring.” A bit reluctantly, Claudia pulls the socks from her feet. The mat is cold on her bare skin, but she does feel firmer in her stance, now.

“Let’s do this,” Claudia says, assuming the position Rayla has just shown her and steeling herself for an attack. “Come at me, bro.” Rayla snorts, observes Claudia for a brief moment as if considering something, then pounces. Claudia must not be as prepared as she thought she was, because Rayla is on her in an instant and, with a quick sweep of her leg and a push against her shoulders, has her falling towards the mat. But she grabs onto Claudia’s wrists, catching her right before she hits the floor and lowers her down gently, instead. “Damn,” Claudia mutters, feeling only slightly frustrated at her failure to fend Rayla off. “Can we try that again?”

“Sure,” Rayla says, extending her arm. Claudia grabs it, pulling herself up and getting back into her fighting stance. Rayla comes at her slower this time, swinging her arm to catch Claudia in a headlock, so Claudia aims a kick at Rayla’s knees. Her shin makes an impact and Rayla stops her movement, before stepping back. “Good,” she says, smiling approvingly. “Again.” This time she approaches Claudia in a sort of crouch, arms wide to grab her around her middle, probably. Claudia tightens her hands into fists and steps forward, aiming a punch in the general direction of Rayla’s face. A flash of a smile briefly appears on Rayla’s face, already gone as she moves her head backwards, avoiding Claudia’s knuckles by only a hair. “Nice,” she says, slapping Claudia’s arm away. “Let’s try some other techniques, now.”

***

Claudia is either a quick learner or just a natural, because she picks up the techniques Rayla teaches her unusually fast, already able to use them in a way that allows Rayla to spar with her after an hour. Sweeping legs, catching or misdirecting punches, striking weak spots; she’s able to fend off Rayla’s attacks at an increasing speed. Rayla punches another time, but Claudia steps forward and blocks it with her arm, using their closeness to put her hands on Rayla’s shoulders, pushing her down and sweeping her legs like Rayla had done, that first time. Maybe not a natural, Rayla thinks as she sees a smug smile slide over Claudia’s face, but just very, _very_ competitive.

“Good,” she says as she stands up, and the way Claudia’s already wide smile grow even more brings a grin to Rayla’s face as well. “Okay, let’s turn it around now. You come at me.”

“Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?” Claudia asks. “Since you’re teaching me self-defense, and all.” Rayla just shrugs.

“Maybe. But don’t you think it would be fun?” She grins provocatively and that’s all Claudia needs. With a smirk, she charges at Rayla. A bit too recklessly, though; in her eagerness, she leaves too many openings and stepping to the side, grabbing a hold of Claudia’s arm and sticking out her leg to trip her becomes child’s play for Rayla. Claudia falls to her knees, but scrambles to her feet quickly and uses Rayla’s grip on her arm to get close. She thrusts her knee up, aiming it at her stomach, which Rayla can only avoid in the nick of time but letting go and jumping backwards. Claudia follows and goes for another leg sweep. Rayla avoids it by stepping to the side, but the movement allows Claudia to get close again.

Rayla is completely focused on Claudia. The way her body moves, how she holds her arms, what her eyes are looking at; Rayla’s trained to observe her opponent and know where they’re going to strike before they even know it themselves. She’s seeing all of Claudia’s movements clear as day, inexperienced as she still it, which is why what happens next takes Rayla entirely by surprise.

She has just parried another one of Claudia’s right hooks when she spots Claudia’s left fist coming for her face. Rayla catches the fist in her hand, fully expecting Claudia to pull back or go for her legs, but instead Claudia swiftly follows through and steps into Rayla’s space. The look on her face, all confident smirk and twinkling green eyes, and Claudia’s sudden proximity make Rayla freeze. For a second she’s suspended in uncertainty. For only a second, because then Claudia’s smile moves even closer and Rayla, with dread, realizes what’s happening. Past the point of no return, Claudia’s lips touch hers.

For a second, she’s frozen. Claudia’s lips are as soft as they were when they were pressing a kiss to her neck, but at the same time this kiss is incomparable. Rayla’s hands find their places on Claudia’s hips on their own, because Rayla is completely overwhelmed by Claudia, whose lips are moving against her own and whose hands are coming up to hold her face, slide through her hair and run down her back. It’s when Rayla starts to kiss back that she fully realizes their situation.

Faster than she has ever moved, Rayla rips Claudia’s hands away and jumps backwards, until she’s on the other side of the room. She stares at Claudia, and Claudia stares back.

“Why did you do that?” Rayla asks, breathlessly. Claudia is staring at her, looking like a lost puppy with her hands still hovering in the empty air, where they used to hold Rayla. The question breaks the tension between them and Claudia recovers. Her hands come to rest on her hips and a shadow of the smirk that was there before returns to her lips.

“You said to use your enemy’s weakness,” she gloats, stepping off the mat and plopping down on the couch. Rayla considers it for a second, then joins her. “Admit it. I got you _good_.” Rayla scoffs.

“Fine. You win this one. As long as you won’t be going around kissing random goons, when they come at you.”

“Aw, does that mean you would be jealous?” Claudia purrs with twinkling eyes. Her arm is slung along the back of the couch casually, her body leaning ever so slightly towards Rayla. With some annoyance, Rayla feels her cheeks heat up.

“I’m just saying it’s a pretty sure way of getting your necklace stolen,” she murmurs. Claudia throws her head back and laughs, breathless and infectious, getting a smile to tug on the corners of Rayla’s mouth.

Right at that moment, the high noon sun breaks through the pack of clouds that is dotted all over the blue sky, and falls through the backside windows. The living room is bathed in a warm, bright yellow light and Rayla’s eyes follow the tiny particles of dust that drift through the air, all the way down until her eyes somehow land on Claudia again. In the silence that has fallen over them she has closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight, reminding Rayla a little of a cat. The epitome of relaxation, she looks the complete opposite to how Rayla feels. She has half a mind to say something or, even worse, move her hand to cover Claudia’s, where it hangs off the back of the couch between them. Claudia looks like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be. Rayla sighs and slumps back into soft couch cushions.

***

The sun has set and Rayla has disappeared; either to some hidden room within the house or to the yard outside. Claudia doesn’t particularly mind. Though she enjoys Rayla’s company a lot—lord knows being cooped up in this safehouse would be unbearable without her—she needs some alone time as well.

Pack and lighter in her back pocket, Claudia starts on her hunt for a window that’s not sealed shut. No such luck on both the ground and first floor, but she does find a hatch in the ceiling. With a bit of effort and balancing herself on a creaky old stool, she gets it to open. A steep ladder folds down and Claudia smirks. As quietly as she can she climbs up and onto the attic.

It’s a musty and dark, covered in dust and cobwebs, but the only thing that Claudia sees is the window, tiny but big enough for her to fit through and, thank god, it creaks open when she pulls on the handle. With a satisfied sigh, she swings her legs over the ledge, pulls a cigarette from the pack and lights it.

Maybe she went overboard this morning, Claudia thinks. A peck when she was drunk and a handful of harmless flirtatious comments along the way are one thing, but kissing Rayla during their sparring session, completely unprovoked? It had seemed like a good idea in the moment. A way to sweep Rayla off her feet, a way for her to both make a move and satisfy her competitive nature. It’s probably completely immoral, Claudia wonders. Soren would call her mad for kissing her bodyguard. But he would tell her she’s ruining her lungs right now as well, and it’s not like Claudia makes a habit of listening to her older brother. Besides, even if it was just for a second, Rayla kissed her back.

A second cigarette is halfway gone by the time the metal ladder creaks. Claudia doesn’t have to look to know it’s Rayla, probably with a very disapproving frown on her face.

“Are you smoking?” Claudia smirks as she takes another drag. She looks back over her shoulder and sure enough, there is that scowl.

“Yes,” she answers. “You want to bum one?” Rayla scoffs.

“No thanks,” she says. “But thanks for letting me know there’s still a window that needs to be secured.” Claudia sighs dramatically, a puff of smoke streaming from her nose as she does so. She turns around to face her bodyguard.

“Come on, Rayla,” she mutters, pouting and putting on her best puppy dog eyes. “Where else am I going to smoke, huh?” Rayla just shrugs.

“Maybe you should quit,” she says. “Use this opportunity to kick a bad habit.”

“Ah,” Claudia answers as she brings the butt to her mouth again. She takes a slow drag, then flicks the filter away. It lands somewhere on the terrace below. “Thieves, gangsters, nightmares… are you saving me from myself, now, too?”

“I don’t think anyone can save you from yourself,” Rayla says as she crosses her arms and leans against one of the beams that hold up the roof. “But yes, I am telling you that it’s bad for you.” Claudia looks away from Rayla, to the yard and the suburbia that spreads out behind it. Then she swings her legs back inside and closes the window. “I’m not judging you,” Rayla says, reaching out and touching Claudia’s elbow softly. Her eyes are clear and gentle, and where Claudia had previously thought them to be grey or blue, she sees a strange violet tint in them, now.

“No, I know,” she answers, flashing Rayla a soothing smile. “But can the window really not stay open? I’ll make sure to lock the hatch when I’m done.” Rayla returns her smile.

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

To Claudia’s surprise, her father is sitting on their couch when she and Rayla enter the living room.

“Dad,” she says excitedly, as she sits down next to Viren and gives him a kiss. “What’s up?”

“Where is the necklace?” he asks, expression grim but not unkind.

“In the nightstand in my room,” Claudia asks. “Why?”

“I’ve talked this over with Runaan,” Viren says, his eyes flickering towards Rayla. “He disagreed with me at first, but I’ve managed to change his mind.”

“About what?”

“Harrow’s sister in law has a gallery opening tomorrow night,” her father says. “The mayor’s whole family is going to be there and I would like for you to come as well.”

“Is that safe?” Claudia asks skeptically. Wasn’t the whole point of her being in this safehouse that she would be _out_ of the public eye?

“The event is exclusive and everyone who attends is checked thoroughly,” Viren tells her. “This means the chances of someone getting in to attack you or steal the Dragon Egg are slim to none. It also means Rayla has to be your plus one, preferably with a credible story for her involvement.”

“Wait, you want me to take the necklace?” Claudia says, raising her eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that mean an increased risk?”

“Maybe,” her dad answers. “But by keeping you and the necklace together Rayla will be able to protect you both.” He glances at the whitehaired girl again and smiles. “So, can I count on you being there? I know Callum and Ezran will be coming as well.” Claudia sighs, but smiles at the mention of her boys. It had been a while.

“Sure, dad.”

***

Tugging on her collar, Rayla looks at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. The suit she’s wearing is a midnight blue, with a black button-up shirt underneath and her usual black combat boots on her feet. She’s wondering whether it’s acceptable attire for an exclusive gallery opening when her answer comes, in the form of Claudia wolf whistling as she reenters the room.

“You clean up really nice,” she purrs.

Rayla grins as she folds her collar down, before turning around and observing Claudia. She’s wearing a jumpsuit, made out of a light, flowy material, which is made up of bright flowers against a dark background. The black heels she’s wearing increase the height difference Rayla has noticed exists between them, but as she twirls around in a little show for Rayla, she can’t say anything else except: “You, too.”

Claudia smiles, kind and appreciative, and moves next to Rayla to check on her makeup in the mirror. The bedroom gets a little cramped even when it’s just the two of them and their king-size bed, so Rayla swallows and sits down on the bed.

“Have you already thought of what our story should be?” she asks, leaning back on her hands as she continues to watch Claudia. She’s switching her regular earrings out for more fancy, dangly ones.

“What story?” Claudia answers, just as she secures the last one, and turns back around to face Rayla.

“Uh, your dad said we should come with some kind of explanation of why I’m your plus one,” Rayla says. “Since the event is so exclusive. I thought it best to let you decide on our cover story. To make sure that it’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“I’m fine with anything,” Claudia says offhandedly as she turns back to the mirror and readjusts the Dragon Egg necklace where it sits on her chest. “How about I just tell people we’re dating?” The flush on Rayla’s face is immediate. “It’s easy, and we’ve already established that you’re handsome,” she continues.

“Really?” Rayla asks. Though that is true, and Claudia has been making advances since the first night they met, there has always been an undercurrent in Rayla’s feelings telling her Claudia isn’t serious when she says those things. That first kiss, if it could even be called that, was the result of Rayla indulging Claudia when she was drunk. The second kiss was just meant to throw her off. Claudia is like that, Rayla thinks. Playful and funny.

“I’m serious,” Claudia says, in her perpetually raspy voice, effectively breaking up Rayla’s train of thought. She’s staring Rayla up and down, smirking as she does so, making Rayla fidget where she sits. “You look hot. We’re about to make a lot of people jealous tonight.”

“Uh, okay,” Rayla says, tugging on her collar. She’s feeling a little out of breath—was it always this tight? “I guess we’re dating, then.” The smile that appears on Claudia’s face is blinding, all white teeth bared in excitement, and it dazes Rayla as Claudia grabs her wrists and pulls her off the bed, and out of the room.

No matter what Rayla thought defined an art gallery opening, her expectations are met with a drastically different reality as soon as their car pulls up to the building. The gallery is in a sleek, modern looking room in a busy street, flanked by high-end retail shops on both sides, with white lights and hints of music streaming through the tall windows. It’s already really busy inside, despite the fact that they’re only ten minutes late, with a bunch of people waiting outside on the red carpet in front of the entrance.

“Damn,” Rayla mutters as Claudia tugs on her hand, leading her past the bouncer to the door. “Are all these people invited?”

“The ones inside are, at least,” Claudia answers, shooting her a soothing smile over her shoulder as she opens the door and walks them inside. Immediately the loud music washes over them and Rayla recoils slightly as the kick drum reverberates in her chest. But Claudia pulls her further inside, past the DJ and the speakers, until they’re in a corner where the noise is tolerable. Claudia lets go of her hand and turns around, leaving Rayla rooted to the spot as she disappears in the bustle of people. Rayla panics and moves to follow, but she blinks and Claudia is already making her way back, with a grin and two flutes of champagne in hand. “Here,” she says as she hands a glass to Rayla with a wink. “Drinks are free.” Rayla observes her champagne dubiously.

“I think it would be better if I stay sober,” she says, looking on as Claudia downs half her glass in one go.

“What? No!” Claudia protests with a pout. “Are you really going to let me drink alone?”

“I’m still on duty,” Rayla shrugs. “I need to stay alert.” Claudia rolls her eyes.

“Being a spy sounds so boring,” she says, drinking the rest of her champagne before turning to Rayla and switching their glasses. “Here, hold this. You still need to play the part of my girlfriend, and my girlfriend drinks, so I’m just going to pretend you just drank all of this. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Rayla answers, grimacing at the way her cheeks heat up when Claudia links arms and presses up against her. Her fingers tighten around the stem of her glass. This is going to be a long night.

They spend some time admiring various photographs. There are cityscapes, still-life’s with different objects, and portraits, the last two both shot against dark backgrounds. Art isn’t anything Rayla understands, but the pictures are crystal clear and the subject matter is beautiful, so she’s actually enjoying herself when she’s examining them with Claudia by her side. They move through the room like this, at a slow pace, taking time for every photograph.

It’s in another corner, just when they’re moving towards the next picture, where Claudia stops dead in her tracks and gasps. Rayla tears her eyes away from the two boys in the photograph and is just about to ask her what’s wrong when Claudia pulls away and disentangles their arms.

“Callum!” she exclaims. “Ezran!” A feral grin takes over her features as she slips past a few people—Rayla feels her own pulse quicken rapidly those few seconds that Claudia disappears from her sight completely—only to come back immediately after, this time dragging two boys who appear to be the ones from the picture with her. “Rayla,” Claudia says with a blinding smile. “These are Callum and Ezran. We’re cousins, basically. Our dads are best friends. Anyway—” She turns back to the boys and messes up their hair simultaneously. “You guys are practically famous now! I’m so proud.” Callum slaps Claudia’s hand away and fixes his hair quickly, whereas Ezran bursts out laughing and retaliates by tickling Claudia.

“Uh, hey,” Callum says, stepping away from the chaos and sticking out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Rayla. And I would say we’re more like family friends than _cousins_ , you know…”

“Oh, Callum, they’re just words,” Claudia says as Rayla shakes Callum’s hand. “I just meant I’ve known you since you were both in diapers. Isn’t that right, kid?” She turns to smile at Ezran, which means she probably misses the pout that Rayla spots on Callum’s face.

“No fair!” Ezran responds as Claudia messes up his black curls again. “You’re _way_ older than me. I demand to see you in diapers, too!” Claudia gasps dramatically and clutches at her chest.

“Did you just call me old?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye, before grabbing onto Rayla’s arm and pulling her close. “You better hope my new girlfriend didn’t hear that.”

It’s almost funny how contrasted the boys’ reactions are. Ezran’s bright blue eyes grow wide and his mouth opens slightly in what Rayla assumes is pure awe, whereas Callum’s face falls. “Rayla is your _girlfriend_?” Ezran asks, the corners of his mouth slowly pulling up into a smile.

“Yep,” Claudia answers, grinning and turning to look at Rayla. Completely out of the blue, like all their kisses so far, she gently pecks Rayla’s lips. Rayla would’ve kissed back, maybe, but she’s distracted by the way Claudia’s nose scrunches up right before their lips touch, and by the time she catches up Claudia has moved away again.

It all goes according to plan after that. Rayla is introduced to some more people as Claudia’s girlfriend, including the artist, Amaya, and her sister Sarai, who turns out to be the wife of mayor Harrow. They’re both impressive women and Rayla shakes their hands with a strong grip, and a desperate hope that neither of them were at the mayor’s party, the night she first met Claudia. She can’t let her cover get blown.

They’ve seen everything and Claudia is on her sixth glass of champagne when she drags Rayla to the edge of the dancefloor, that’s formed in the middle of open space of the gallery. One of her arms is slung around Rayla’s shoulders, either to stay on her feet or in an attempt to sell their backstory. Or both. “Dance with me,” Claudia giggles in Rayla’s ear, so close that her breath hits the side of Rayla’s face. With a gentle prodding she takes the half empty glass from Claudia’s fingers and glances at it.

“Maybe when you’re not drunk?” Rayla suggests. Claudia raises an eyebrow, challengingly.

“I’m not _drunk_ ,” she replies, her green eyes somewhere between clear and glassy. “I’m tipsy. ‘ve only had three drinks, remember?” The wink Claudia tries for ends up with her blinking slowly, twice, and Rayla can’t help but snicker at her.

“Okay,” she says. Giving in isn’t usually an option for her, but drunk Claudia does puppy dog eyes really well, for some reason. Resolutely, Rayla sets the glass on the tray of a passing waiter and grabs Claudia’s hands. “But no more alcohol for you.” Claudia just smiles dopily and steps close, placing Rayla’s hands on her hips, like last time.

“Fine by me,” she sighs, as her arms come to rest on Rayla’s shoulders and she bows her head, until their foreheads are touching. It feels very intimate and for a moment, Rayla forgets everything and everyone around them. Claudia’s eyes have her mesmerized, unfocused and half lidded as they are. Rayla almost misses it when Claudia’s mouth moves, and she whispers: “Kiss me?”

She doesn’t even have to think for that long. The song is fast and upbeat, but it feels like a slow jam when Rayla leans in and brushes lips with Claudia. It feels different now that she’s the one initiating it, now that she’s fully prepared for the softness of Claudia’s lips and how they feel on hers. At the same time, it’s achingly familiar, and it fills Rayla with conflicting sensations of both weightlessness and something heavy sitting on her stomach. But Claudia is beaming when she pulls away, and all other emotions she feels are washed away by a warmth, blooming in her chest. It does feel good to be the one to take the lead, for once, Rayla muses. Just like it feels good to protect her cover, or to help a friend.

Then the song changes, and somewhere behind them a glass breaks on the stone floor, and Rayla ignores it all in favor of leaning in and kissing Claudia again.

***

Her father always has a lot of good ideas, Claudia thinks as she’s swaying to a slow song in Rayla’s arms, but this might very well be the best of them. It’s late and the night is coming to an end, and Claudia can happily say she’s spent the majority of it either holding Rayla’s hand, or being held in Rayla’s arms. Most of the people that were here are gone, now and they’re practically the only ones dancing anymore. Claudia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her nose, recognizing a sweet mixture of something that is both Rayla’s deodorant and Rayla herself. She lets herself focus on all the places where they’re pressed up against each other. It’s nice, even if it’s not real.

“How much longer do you want to stay?” Rayla softly murmurs in her ear.

“Don’t know,” Claudia hums. “Don’t care.” Both the alcohol and Rayla’s proximity are making her feel warm and comfortable, and she kind of never wants to leave. Not that Rayla has to know that. “You choose,” she murmurs back.

“I’m kind of all danced out,” Rayla says, but she keeps her hands around Claudia’s waist and their bodies pressed together. Claudia just sighs, smiles happily and turns their embrace into a hug.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she says as she pulls back a little to look at Rayla, keeping her arms around the other girl’s neck.

“Sure,” Rayla says, averting her violet eyes while her cheeks redden. “I’m very committed to my job, you know.” That makes Claudia’s smile grow wide.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, pressing a gentle kiss to Rayla’s cheek. “But thanks, anyway.” Then she steps back, disentangling herself from Rayla entirely except for one hand, which she holds on to like a lifeline. Quite literally, because that one step back already has her out of balance.

“Come on,” Rayla says, wearing a knowing smirk. She shifts her hand, moving it up to cup Claudia’s elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

It’s probably cold outside, but with the alcohol and the buzz from the entire evening thrumming through her veins, Claudia doesn’t feel it at all. Still, Rayla shrugs off her jacket as soon as they step out into the cool night air and offers it to her with the softest expression on her face, so what other choice does Claudia have, but to accept it and stick her arms through the sleeves. It’s warm with Rayla’s warmth, heavy with her scent and Claudia grins inadvertently as she pulls it tighter around her, sticking her hands in the pockets.

“I just texted, the car will pick us up in ten,” Rayla says, while slipping her phone in her pant pocket. Then she turns around and looks down the road to her left. “Come on, lets walk for a bit. It’ll sober you up.” Claudia snorts.

“What do you mean?” she asks as she starts down the way Rayla is facing, with Rayla quickly falling into step beside her. “I’m super sober.” Just as she says it, Claudia stumbles and grabs onto Rayla’s arm to keep herself upright—ironically un-making her point. “Well,” Claudia mumbles, a little winded, “almost sober.” Rayla just chuckles and places her hand on Claudia’s back, rubbing up and down before securing her arm around her middle.

“Alright, princess, whatever you say,” Rayla remarks. Claudia whips her head around and gapes at her, mock-offended.

“I’ll have you know I’m very against monarchies.”

“Fine,” Rayla says with a shrug. “Heiress, then.” Claudia giggles at the term and leans on Rayla as she laughs.

“That’s a funny word,” she says, “even if you’re just calling me spoiled and stuck-up.” Rayla waits a beat to answer, while they walk.

“I’m calling you rich.” Her lilac eyes meet Claudia’s, stare right into them for a second. There’s nothing but honesty in the deep purple. “You’re not any of those other things.” It takes Claudia’s breath away, briefly, before she catches herself. She grabs Rayla’s hand again and squeezes.

“You’re so sweet,” Claudia muses, “so thoughtful, so strong…” Her thumb rubs circles in the soft skin of Rayla’s hand. “Not to mention, _impeccable_ at your job.” Rayla just chuckles as they turn a corner.

“It’s not that hard,” she answers. “My charge happens to be pretty easy-going.” Her eyes twinkle with something that’s either the streetlights, reflecting, or something else entirely. “Not to mention, really funny when she’s drunk.”

Claudia smirks and wants to say something like ‘I know’, or make a very stupid joke to reiterate just how funny she can be when she’s been chugging champagne all night, but she’s distracted by a car door slamming shut from somewhere very close behind them. Rayla notices it too; her eyes go from soft to focused in the moment it takes for them to dart back to the way they came from. It’s probably nothing, Claudia thinks as she looks up at the few stars that dot the night sky. It’s probably people coming or going home after a night out, like them. But then Rayla’s hand, solid and reassuring in her own, lets go as Rayla turns around and rips away. Claudia turns her head and subsequently freezes as she realizes what’s happening.

Rayla knees the tall, burly and menacing-looking man, who somehow got right behind them, in the crotch and uses her forward momentum to get close, before bringing her elbow down on his neck. Before he’s even hit the ground, she has already turned and pounces on a second man who’s quickly approaching Claudia—her breath catches in her throat, so focused on Rayla that she hadn’t even seen him coming. Rayla takes him down with a well-aimed jab to the eye, followed by a mean right hook that leaves his nose a bleeding mess. She’s at Claudia’s side in a second, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a sprint down the road.

“I need to get you out of here,” Rayla hisses, urgent but quiet in the silence of the night. “The car should be here soon; let’s circle this block and double back to the gallery.” Her hold of Claudia’s hand is tight and constantly pulling her along, a sharp contrast to the loose and carefree grasp from before, but it fills Claudia with the same feelings affection.

“Okay,” she says, still drunk and feeling confused and scared and safe, all at the same time. “Okay, yeah.” Rayla tugs her down another dark street, then quickly turns a corner and leads them through an even darker alley. A beat of silence as they run through it has Claudia thinking they’re out of the woods, that this route must have shaken them off, but then they step back into the yellow streetlights and there’s another man, who kicks at Claudia’s legs as soon as she rushes past him. With a painful clash, his boot digs into Claudia’s shins and she’s sent flying to the rough asphalt. Claudia catches herself, scraping open the skin on the palms of her hands and her knees, where the delicate fabric of her jumpsuit tears. “ _Fuck_ ,” she mutters, as she scrambles back to her feet shakily. “Shit, that hurts.” Claudia whips her head around, eyes landing on Rayla, who knocks the guy who tripped her unconscious with an impressive roundhouse kick. She sees Rayla’s eyes widen, trained on something over her shoulder, but her inebriated state makes Claudia somewhat slower.

By the time she realizes the danger she’s in, the thin, silver chain with the Dragon Egg is already being pulled painfully tight around her throat.

“Give it up,” a gruff, low voice mutters from behind her, “and I won’t hurt you. Much.” In hindsight, Claudia will swear it’s the alcohol that gave her the edge to do what she does next. But here, in the moment, it must be the desperate worry in Rayla’s eyes that moves her elbow backwards into the man’s gut with all the fury and strength of a lioness; that has her fist, clenched tight, breaking the man’s nose with all the speed and tenacity of a spaceship breaking through the atmosphere; that lets her push the man to the ground with all the power that Claudia has in her. With a grunt, the man falls to the ground. Throughout Claudia’s attack, his fist had not let go of the necklace and even now, his fingers clench around it firmly. The silver chain digs painfully into the skin of Claudia’s neck and, with a dry pang, snaps.

“Claudia!” In an instant, Rayla is by her side, hand on her lower back protectively. “Are you okay? I—”

“The necklace,” Claudia breathes, eyes locked onto the blue stone that shines dimly in the streetlight. “The Dragon Egg.” The stone is lifted up from the street by the brawny man Claudia had just pushed to the ground. His head is angled down and blood is trickling steadily from his nose into his mouth; his injury offset by the grin on his face. “Oh no,” Claudia whispers, as she feels her legs tremble, her knees ready to give out.

She touches the ground before she even feels that she’s falling, too busy staring at the man she just gave a bloody nose, running off with the necklace both Rayla and herself promised to protect. Rayla’s hand is firm and steady on her shoulder, but when Claudia glances up at her, she looks torn. “Go,” Claudia says, voice hardly above a whisper. “Please.” So Rayla takes off, leaving Claudia with nothing but a sore neck, teary eyes and thoughts that keep going back to her father’s eyes, when he said: ‘I was under the expression you would keep it _safe_.’

***

The ride back to the safehouse happens in complete silence. Rayla doesn’t know what to say, so she holds onto Claudia’s hand, in the hope the touch gives her comfort in lieu of words. She holds on, even when they enter the safety of the house, even when Claudia plops down on the couch with tired eyes and a deep sigh.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Rayla asks carefully, from her spot next to Claudia. “You must be tired.”

“I am,” Claudia mumbles, her eyes cast down. “But I don’t know if I could sleep. I keep thinking about…” It’s a sentence she doesn’t have to finish for Rayla to know what she’s talking about. Resolutely, Rayla stands up, and loosens her vicelike grip on Claudia’s hand for the first time since she took a hold of it, back in the car.

“Stay here,” she says solemnly. “I know something that will distract you.” In a flash, Rayla is up the stairs and in the other bedroom, where she keeps her supplies. Half a minute of selecting different objects there and she’s back in the living room, spreading the gadgets out on their salon table.

“What are you doing?” Claudia mumbles. She sounds disinterested, but Rayla recognizes a glimmer in her eyes that betrays her interest. With a small smile she picks up the first gadget and hands it to Claudia.

“Let’s start small,” Rayla starts, shifting to face Claudia and the ordinary-looking pen in her hands. “This is a pretty regular spy pen. You can buy these online, they can take photos, videos, audio, you name it. Perfect for undercover surveillance.”

“Wait,” Claudia says as her eyes widen and she straightens up. “Are you showing me all of your cool spy assassin tech?” Rayla rolls her eyes at the terminology, but nods.

“Cool, right? This baby can store about sixteen gigabytes of footage.” Claudia twirls the pen around in her hands, entirely captivated as her eyes glide over the smooth surface of the pen.

“Yeah,” she answers quietly. Then, louder: “What else have you got?” Her smile grows into a smirk as Rayla picks up another pen from the table. Claudia is already reaching for it, but she keeps it just out of her reach.

“Careful with this one,” Rayla warns. “If you click, it shoots a laser. It’s small, but very condensed, meaning it’s _very_ painful if you happen to aim it at yourself.” Claudia just cracks a smile and makes another attempt to grab the pen from Rayla’s hand.

“Why would I aim it at myself?” she asks.

“I trust you,” Rayla answers, “but I don’t trust your hand eye coordination, right now.” Claudia snorts, shrugging as she leans back in the couch.

“That’s fair.”

“So,” Rayla continues, fishing a pair of glasses out of a box on the table. “I also have these. They can stream basic images like layouts and display them right there, on the left lens.” Turning them around in her hands, Rayla shows Claudia the receiver, a tiny box on the end of the right tip, and presses a button on the left tip end to power them up. The left lens starts glowing in a soft blue hue and Rayla untucks the stems, before holding it up and with careful fingers, placing it on the bridge of Claudia’s nose. “What do you think?”

“Very cool,” Claudia answers. She’s going a bit cross-eyed as she gets used to reading the transmission on the lens, and it’s making her nose scrunch up in a way that has Rayla’s chest constricting. “It says here there’s a connection issue,” Claudia says, scrunching her face up in a frown for a last time before taking the glasses off and handing them back to Rayla. “That really is amazing, though. I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“Well, your father did hire the best of the best, of course,” Rayla boasts with a grin. “Besides, those transmitter glasses are nothing compared to this.” She tilts her head backwards and with steady fingers, holds one eye open and plucks a contact lens right off its surface. Holding it steady on the tip of her finger, Rayla holds the reddish contact up for Claudia to see. “It’s nanotechnology,” Rayla explains. “Kind of like the glasses, but infinitely smaller. Crazy, right?” Claudia’s mouth all but drops to the floor. She looks at the contact on Rayla’s finger, then in Rayla’s now mismatched blue and purple eyes, and back at the contact again.

“Holy shit,” she murmurs. “It all makes sense now. I _knew_ your eyes couldn’t be naturally purple!” The triumphant grin on Claudia’s face widens as she brings it close to Rayla’s, who can see in detail the movements of Claudia’s green eyes as they observe hers.

“Did you really think my eyes were purple?” Rayla says with a snort.

“I didn’t know what to think!” Claudia answers indignantly. “The first time I met you, you were this kind, mysterious stranger and then the second time you were a spy and an assassin, so yes, maybe I did think they were.” She trails off, forms her mouth into a pout and crosses her arms, looking so miserably cute that Rayla can’t help but crack a smile.

“That’s okay,” she says, feeling a little rebellious, “I get it. A handsome bodyguard like myself… who can blame you?” Claudia snorts and starts laughing, shaking and slapping Rayla’s shoulder as she does.

“Shut up,” she mutters with a grin.

“Or what?” Rayla replies. It feels dangerous, like treading somewhere new and unknown, but sitting in this dimly lit living room Rayla feels like she can do anything.

“Or I’ll shut you up,” Claudia says, her voice just above a whisper. A clever remark dies a silent death on Rayla’s tongue as she gets distracted by the blush on Claudia’s cheeks, or how she’s still sitting really close, their eyes locked and Claudia gazing into them like she’s seeing something beyond the singular red contact in Rayla’s eye.

Rayla is just waiting for it to happen, like it already has between them. Claudia’s lips hover closer and it feels like an inevitability, but right before they touch Rayla’s they pull back, and spread into a yawn. “Right,” Rayla mutters, suddenly acutely aware of their situation again. “Maybe we should get you to bed.”

Claudia falls asleep pretty much the second her dark hair hits the pillow. It might be her instincts as a spy turned bodyguard, or the events of this night, but Rayla is content to sit on the bed next to her and just watch her sleep, for a while. It’s distracting enough on its own, with the way Claudia softly snores, how all her facial muscles are as relaxed as Rayla’s ever seen them and with a familiar, calming warmth pressing against Rayla’s thigh.

That night, after having fallen asleep next to the other girl, Rayla wakes up. Her position is precarious; Claudia’s face is tucked in the nape of her neck, where soft breaths wave through her hair and caress her skin, and her arm is tucked securely around Rayla’s waist. She doesn’t dare to move in case it wakes Claudia up, but after having spent a handful of minutes listening to Claudia’s snores, Rayla decides to just pick up her arm and move it, as quietly as she can. Rayla is just about to turn and move to the edge of the bed when Claudia mutters something inaudible and slings her arm right back to it’s spot on Rayla’s belly, tucked snugly below her breast.

“It’s okay, Claudia,” she whispers as she tries to move the arm again, but even in her sleep Claudia is adamant about the things she wants.

“No,” she murmurs, pulling Rayla closer against her and tangling their legs together below the covers. “Stay.”

So Rayla stays, ending the night like they’d started it. In their shared bedroom. Together.

***

With the morning comes, once again, the harsh realization that the Dragon Egg is gone. Claudia had almost forgotten about it, with the distractions of a good night’s sleep and Rayla’s touch, a constant throughout it. But then she gets downstairs, hungry and still in that groggy just-woke-up state, and the sight of Viren and Runaan sitting on the living room couch in the harsh light of the morning gives rise to the memories from last night. And just like that, Claudia’s good mood plummets.

She takes a seat in the armchair facing the two men, smiling gratefully at Rayla when she hands her a cup of coffee.

“Rayla told us everything that happened last night,” Viren starts. His brow is set in its usual stern expression, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards in a similarly familiar way. “It’s a shame it couldn’t be prevented. But I’m glad to see you’re all right, Claudia.” His tone of voice isn’t particularly angry either. Maybe he really is just glad to see her safe and sound, Claudia wonders, and a hesitant smile spreads over her face.

“You know me, dad,” she says. “Tough as nails. Rayla helped, too.” The corner of Viren’s mouth quirks upwards.

“Right,” he answers, “about that. I’ve discussed this with Runaan, and we’ve come to the understanding you’re no longer in any real danger. All of my resources will have to go to finding the Dragon Egg, now, and bringing it back to our family, where it belongs.” Runaan nods in agreement.

“You can go home today,” he says. “Rayla will take care of the cleanup here. There’s nothing to worry about for you, anymore.”

“Oh,” Claudia says, surprised. Going from life-threatening danger to… absolutely nothing at all, feels a little strange. “Okay. Guess I’ll be packing up my stuff, then?” She stands up, a little confused. Her father smiles as he does the same.

“I still have some things to take care of today, but I will see you at home,” he murmurs as he embraces Claudia, briefly and faintly. Runaan rises as well, nods at Rayla and then he and Viren leave.

“That was weird,” Claudia mutters as she falls back into the armchair.

“What do you mean?” Rayla asks. She moves from where she had been standing, behind the armchair, and plops down on the couch. Her lilac eyes never move away and Claudia quietly gazes back at them over the edge of her mug.

“I don’t know,” Claudia continues, after she swallows and puts the cup down. “I guess I expected my dad to make a much bigger fuss about losing the necklace. Last time he chewed me out for only _wearing_ it, and now that I’ve lost it it’s like he doesn’t even care.”

“I think he’s just glad to see you safe,” Rayla supplies, softly. “I know I am.” It’s sweet, in typical Rayla fashion, but instead of basking in it like she usually does, Claudia’s thoughts drift back to her father.

“And I know him,” she mutters. “Don’t you think it’s at least little suspicious?”

“I think every rich man is suspicious,” Rayla offers. “And I don’t think your father is the exception to the rule—no offense, but I have a certain experience with these type of figures.”

“Yeah,” Claudia says. She knows Rayla knows what she’s talking about. She also knows that her father, a kind and loving family man, can be ruthless and cutthroat when his goals demand it. “What can we do to make sure?” A sly smile slides over Rayla’s face.

“Well, I was just technically fired, so…” Claudia rolls her eyes.

“Then I’m rehiring you,” she says. “We need to get to the bottom of this. Maybe we’ll even find the Egg in the process.”

“I think so,” Rayla says, as she leans forward with an excited expression. With a flourish she gets her phone from her pocket, tapping and swiping away for a moment, before holding it out to Claudia. On the screen, a map of the city shows a red, blinking dot. It’s slowly moving down the streets to the upper part of the city. “Look,” Rayla continues. “They might have been beaten us, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I put a tracker on the necklace.”

“Huh. Neat,” Claudia says, eyes still glued to the moving red dot, before the words actually register, “wait, what? Where? Also, when? I haven’t let that thing out of my sight.”

“It’s on the clasp,” Rayla answers. “I thought on the stone itself would be too obvious. As for when…” The corner of her mouth moves upwards. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper.” Claudia returns the grin.

“Stop flattering me, Rayla,” she says as she stands up from the armchair. “We’ve got thieves to catch!” Claudia is already moving towards the front door, fully intending to jump in their car and chase after the dot, as she imagines Rayla’s spy-flick-life is like, but when she steps past her, her ex-bodyguard stops her.

“The most important part of my job is patience,” she says, as if she had heard Claudia’s thoughts, her hand cool and steady on Claudia’s arm. “Let’s pack up your stuff and go home, first. We can check Viren’s study for any shady stuff and if he really is involved, the Dragon Egg will likely come to him at some point. And if he isn’t, we’ll still have the tracker.”

“And what if they find it?” Claudia counters, pursing her lips slightly. Rayla keeps her grip on her arm and pulls her along, up the stairs and to their bedroom.

“Then I’ll scour the black market until I find it,” Rayla answers. They step into the room and she turns around, holding out her pinky finger. “I promise.” The gesture, other than bringing an adoring smile to Claudia’s face, uncoils something warm in her chest, and she doesn’t hesitate to grab Rayla’s finger with her own.

“I’m holding you to that, you know,” Claudia mutters.

“I’m counting on it,” answers Rayla.

***

Claudia’s room… _fits_ her, if Rayla had to think of a way to describe it. The last and only time she had been in this mansion can’t have been more than a week ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. This time, Rayla pays more attention to the high, ornamented ceilings, the tall windows and the canvasses on the walls. She knows, of course, that Claudia’s family is loaded, but it seems like it takes walking through this near-palace for it to actually sink in.

Claudia’s room is exactly like the rest of the house in the sense that it’s beautifully decorated, and at the same time very unlike it in the sense that it’s a mess. Clothes are strewn around, there are books and loose sheets of papers in separate stacks throughout the room and on the desk, and Rayla almost trips over a laptop as she makes her way through it all. Claudia is already on the other side, hurriedly emptying an ashtray in the bin.

“Sorry,” she says, looking sheepish, “I didn’t have time to clean this place up. Obviously.” Claudia discards the ashtray on the broad windowsill before moving to the bed. It’s bigger than the one they had at the safehouse, but covered in all manner of objects, which Claudia quickly gathers in her arms and dumps in a corner of the room. She straightens the duvet, before smiling and plopping down on it, patting the space next to her in invitation. Rayla scoffs a laugh and joins.

“Nice crib,” she mutters. “I’d forgotten how rich you guys actually are.” Claudia chuckles, her hand moving along with the movement, causing her fingers to touch Rayla’s. An intake of breath catches in Rayla’s throat; she freezes, and doesn’t dare moving. Her thoughts, completely uncalled for, start debating the options of moving her hand away, positioning it over Claudia’s, or doing nothing at all. The brave side of her wins out, aided by the degree of comfort that already exists between them, and Rayla doesn’t hesitate as she covers Claudia’s fingers with her own. Her eyes find Claudia’s, who is about to speak when a rough knock on the door interrupts her.

“Claudia!” Soren’s voice booms through the room as he opens the door and enters. Rayla is undeterred, and keeps her hand securely where it is. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Aw, did you miss me?” Claudia says, grinning widely. Her brother just shrugs.

“Actually, a little Soren-time was just what I needed,” he says, “but it did get boring after two days, with dad busy at work. You know how it is.” Claudia nods.

“Speaking of dad’s impossible schedule, where is he now?”

“Just at the mayor’s office, like usual,” Soren answers as he crosses his arms and observes all the stuff littering the floor. “Jesus, Clauds, I will never understand how you can live like this.” Rayla snorts at that, because in some way it’s so typical that a perpetually excited person like Claudia is bad at keeping her room clean. The sound draws Soren’s attention like this is the first time he’s noticed her, and his eyes grow wide. “The assassin bodyguard!” he says enthusiastically. “You’re still here? Dad told me Claudia was officially cleared.”

Just like that, Rayla feels her relaxed mood disappear. “Uh, she is,” she says hesitantly, looking to Claudia for support. Claudia turns her hand around and grasps Rayla’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Rayla’s not here in any official capacity,” Claudia tells him airily. Quickly, she glances back at Rayla and shoots her an apologetic smile. Her green eyes seem to shine, as she softly says: “She’s my girlfriend.” The tension in Rayla’s shoulders dissipates and a feeling of relief comes over her, although a small part of her can’t help but wonder if it’s because the real reason she’s here isn’t revealed, or if it’s something else. Something concerning feelings that Rayla would rather never think about. Soren’s reaction proves distracting enough—his mouth falls open in shock, before turning into a wide grin.

“Wow,” he says, blue eyes shining with mirth. “Callum told me you guys were together after Amaya’s gallery opening, but I thought he might have just misinterpreted things.”

“Well, it’s true,” Claudia says, determined. Her eyes are still on Rayla as she says it, and they stay there even as she falls silent. Rayla doesn’t say anything, either and Soren seems to take their momentary immersion in each other as some sort of a sign.

“Uh, okay,” he chuckles awkwardly, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.” With that, he leaves. Rayla barely notices, her thoughts still stuck on what Claudia had told her brother.

“Why did you say that?” she asks, quietly and carefully, after the door falls shut. Claudia finally breaks eye contact and she tries to pull her hand away too, but Rayla holds on, securely. “I’m not angry, or anything. It’s just… I don’t get it.” Claudia sighs.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I panicked, and I don’t even know why. Usually I don’t keep anything from my brother.”

“Right,” Rayla answers. She finally lets Claudia’s hand go, stands up from the bed and moves to the high windows. Claudia’s room is at the back of the house and a large, green lawn stretches out about as far as the eye can see. “I thought this might have to do with our little mission. It’s okay to not want to involve him in this, you know.”

“I do,” Claudia says. “But it’s not that—or not _just_ that, at least.” Without turning around, Rayla hears the other girl stand up from the bed, too and make her way to her side. Claudia stays silent for a long time. Rayla waits, patiently, as she watches a flock of starlings dance through the sky. “I don’t know how to say this,” Claudia speaks, eventually. She’s pouting again, her furrowed brow speaking volumes of her frustration. Rayla can’t help but smile at that scrunched up nose and take a little pity on the girl.

“Tell me,” she says, putting a hand on Claudia’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay.” Claudia exhales deeply and turns to face Rayla.

“How many times have we kissed, now?” she asks. “Five times, six?”

“I’m not sure,” Rayla responds. “You were kind of all over me at that gallery opening.” The blush on Claudia’s cheeks comes fast and she averts her eyes again.

“Don’t mock me,” she mutters.

“I’m not! Claudia, I’m not,” Rayla answers. “You were dedicated to your role. I admire that.” Claudia only scoffs, self-deprecatingly, as she sits down on the windowsill, her eyes on the starlings.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were, too.”

“Trust me, Rayla, I wasn’t,” Claudia says again. For a moment, Rayla doesn’t know what to say. This conversation seems to go everywhere and nowhere, and she’s barely following.

“Claudia,” she says, eventually, “what did you want to say to me?”

“It’s not that I was such a great actor,” Claudia mumbles, her voice seemingly more scratchy than usual. “It was just easy, because…” Outside, the starlings twitter and the clouds shift. All of it is sudden: the sun, absent one moment and shrouding them in warmth and light then next, the way it seems to reflect off the specks of brown in Claudia’s eyes and, perhaps most of all, her words when she speaks again: “I think I’m in love with you.”

***

“And… you should know, I wouldn’t have told you that if I didn’t think there was a small part of you that felt the same for me.” A deep sigh leaves Claudia’s lungs. The word is out. It’s both completely exhilarating and cripplingly terrifying. There really is no way back anymore, now. She chances a glance at Rayla—the girl looks positively shocked. Claudia can’t discern if it’s in a positive or negative way, yet. “So?” That seems to shake Rayla from her daze.

“So, what?” she asks.

“So, was I right to think that?” Claudia replies. Her heart is beating a relentless rhythm in her chest, but she ignores it, keeping her hands clasped together in her lap as she looks at Rayla. A range of emotions follow each other up in rapid succession on her face, all infused with a hesitant sort of confusion. “Come on, Rayla,” Claudia mutters. “I just told you I love you. Least you can do is give me a straight answer, here.”

“Right,” Rayla answers, wringing her hands together. “Uh, I mean—yes. You’re right. You were.” The blush Claudia knows is on her own cheeks seems to be coming up on Rayla’s, as well. Rayla sighs, and takes a seat next to her on the windowsill. “I’ll be honest,” she says. “Every time you kissed me, I felt… just _so_ overwhelmed, like gravity suddenly shifted and changed. Like I was in trance.” Claudia feels her mouth pull up into a smile, because she knows exactly what Rayla is talking about. Rayla notices, though, and her blush deepens as she directs her gaze down at her hands. “You’re laughing at me. Look, Claudia, I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“I’m not laughing!” Claudia quickly says, abandoning all doubt now that Rayla has said what she has, and joining their hands together. “Well, not at you. I’m just really, very relieved. For a second there, I was scared you would never want to see me again.” The look of utter disbelief on Rayla’s face at those words has Claudia smiling even wider. I could _never_ , her face seems to say.

“You are taking me a little by surprise,” Rayla says. “But never that.” Claudia grins. Her right hand abandons Rayla’s in favor of coming up to tuck a strand of that shining white hair behind her ear, before settling on her cheek.

“Now, can I kiss you?” she asks, her voice a whisper. A grin breaks out on Rayla’s face, mirroring Claudia’s expression, and she nods.

The exhilaration thrumming through her veins probably makes her grin seem a little manic, but Claudia cares about nothing but the feeling of Rayla’s soft skin as she holds her face in both hands; her shining lilac eyes as she brings it close; and the soft breath that leaves Rayla’s mouth as Claudia finally bridges the distance between them and kisses her.

Claudia knows what’s it like to kiss Rayla. She has experience with it, after all; she knows sometimes it takes Rayla a second to engage, or that her hands will start to wonder, and caress her softly as the kiss deepens. Or, it was like that at the gallery. Here, alone in Claudia’s room, everything she thought she knew about Rayla is refuted.

When Claudia runs her hands down her arms, Rayla suddenly uses this loose grip to her advantage and climbs on her lap, instantly pressing their bodies together. When Claudia deepens the kiss and adds a little tongue in the way she knows she likes, Rayla surprises her again, and bites down on her lower lip gently, pulling on it softly before letting go and diving in again. It’s an entirely new experience, now that neither of them are held back by things like backstories, or duty, or danger. Claudia grins into the kiss when Rayla bites her lip again, and runs her fingers down her side in retaliation. Rayla’s hands are getting tangled in her hair as they get a steady rhythm going and Claudia lets own wander even lower, going down Rayla’s back, over the fabric of her jeans, then back up again. Claudia briefly thinks that this is all she cares about, now. If she had to do one thing until the end of time, it would be kissing Rayla on the windowsill in her room, in the sun, against the glass.

Of course, that’s when the phone in Rayla’s back pocket starts buzzing. They ignore it at first, but as it keeps on going, Claudia groans and fishes it out of the pocket with the hand that is still resting on Rayla’s butt, tucking the hair that’s falling in Rayla’s eyes away with the other as she hands it to her.

“Here,” she mutters, pouting slightly. Rayla only chuckles at how upset she is and sits back on Claudia’s knees as she unlocks the phone.

“Oh, shit,” Rayla mumbles as she looks at the screen. Claudia abandons the strands of Rayla’s platinum hair that she’s twirling around her fingers and leans forward, eyes on the phone.

“What is it?” Rayla shows her that same map of the city she had, before.

“The Dragon Egg,” she says, looking at the glowing red dot. “It’s moving.” Claudia freezes.

“What?” she squeaks. “I—What do we do?” Rayla looks up from her phone and into Claudia’s eyes.

“We could go after it?” Rayla offers. “And make some observations before we break into your dad’s office without any proof.” She’s already moving away, attempting to get off her lap, but Claudia keeps her hands firmly on Rayla’s hips.

“Do we have to?” she asks. “When we’ve just… you know.” Rayla grins, leans in close and kisses her again, soft and slow.

“Come on,” she says when she pulls back, standing up and pulling Claudia along with her. “There will be more than enough time to continue this, later.” Claudia sighs dejectedly and she’s pretty sure she’s still frowning, but she goes willingly when Rayla holds her hand and takes her to the car. If only to get this over with, so they can get back to… well. You know.

***

The sun has set when they arrive near the point where the Dragon Egg had stopped; an obscure fast food joint on a street corner in a part of town Rayla’s sure Claudia has never set foot in before. In the twilight, she parks their car on an empty lot next to the fast food place, far enough that they won’t be paid any attention to by the few customers, but still close enough to see whoever enters and leaves.

“You’re sure we can’t go through the drive-thru real quick?” Claudia asks as she fiddles with the radio. “I could really go for a burger right now.”

“And I could really go for knowing who took your necklace, and who they’re meeting,” Rayla retorts. Then, a little softer: “But, sure. After.” Claudia smiles gratefully and leans in to plant a quick kiss on her cheek. Rayla’s reaction is automatic as she turns her head to face Claudia, but she catches herself and quickly moves her gaze back to the entrance of the restaurant. “You’re so distracting,” she mutters softly, but she can’t help but smile when Claudia snorts and laces their fingers together.

“You love it,” she says.

“Maybe,” Rayla responds.

They both fall silent and listen to the 80s channel Claudia has selected, eyes on any movement by the door. It’s actually not that bad for a stake-out, Rayla thinks, with a warm hand in her own and Claudia softly humming along to Total Eclipse of the Heart and What a Feeling. They stay like that for a while, quietly watching as the stars move above them. Once or twice, Rayla checks her phone, and both times the necklace’s location is the same. Right across from them, in that seedy looking 24-hour fast food joint. Suddenly, a thought occurs to Rayla.

“I might have to go in if this takes too long,” she says. Claudia stops her rendition of What’s Love Got To Do With It to stare at her.

“What? Why?”

“The Egg hasn’t moved in a while,” Rayla answers. “If it stays like that any longer without anyone coming in, we need to consider the possibility that they found the tracker and left it in there, in order to throw us off the scent.”

“Okay,” Claudia says, slowly. “But if that’s the case, let’s both go inside.” Rayla feels her eyes widen and opens her mouth to object, but Claudia is faster. “I know what you’re going to say,” she says. “I should stay here, just in case. Because it’s not safe. But it’s my necklace, and you’re not my bodyguard anymore, and I want to do this together. So.” She crosses her arms defiantly and it’s pretty clear to Rayla that this is something she’s not going to be able to get Claudia to change her mind about. With a slight grin, she turns her attention back to the scene in front of them.

“Okay,” Rayla answers. “We’ll do it together—oh, shit.”

“What?” Claudia asks, unfolding her arms and leaning forward. Her sharp intake of breath tells Rayla she isn’t imagining this. Even in the dim, yellow streetlights, it’s unmistakably Viren who opens the door and steps into the fast food place.

“I’m guessing this doesn’t happen to be a place your dad frequents,” Rayla mumbles. She keeps her eyes on Viren through the windows, but he disappears further into the restaurant, out of their sight.

“Not even close,” Claudia answers. “Fuck… what do we do know?” Rayla thinks for a moment, then turns around and grabs a hoodie and a cap from the back seat.

“I’m going in,” she says, resolutely, already tying her light hair back into a bun.

“Oh, no way,” Claudia protests, as she snatches the hoodie from Rayla’s lap and pulls it over her clothes.. “You just promised we’d do this together.” Rayla looks at Claudia, considering.

“It is your father, in there. If he recognizes you, it’s all over.”

“He could recognize you, too,” Claudia retorts.

“That’s true,” Rayla answers. “Okay, you can come.” She reaches over and pulls the hood over Claudia’s head gently, making sure her long black and purple hair is hidden by the grey fabric. “I have an idea of how we’ll be even more inconspicuous, which I think you’re going to like.”

“What?” Claudia asks. “Are we getting food?” Rayla snorts.

“That, too,” she says, as she puts on the cap. “But what I meant was that people tend to look away from PDA.” Claudia’s eyes widen in realization, before a lazy grin spreads on her face.

“Oh,” she says. Rayla returns her grin.

“So you’re very welcome to… _distract_ me,” she drawls as she opens the car door, still looking at Claudia, who’s returning her gaze with a bold twinkle in her eye. “Let’s go.”

As they approach the restaurant, Rayla can’t help but think they must look like the epitome of a lovesick couple. Claudia is taking her role very seriously and is all but glued to her side, her hand in the back pocket of Rayla’s jeans and Rayla’s arm slung snugly around her shoulders.

“Ready?” she whispers in her ear, before kissing her cheek briefly. Rayla only nods, pressing Claudia a bit closer as she opens the door.

“Remember, don’t look at them,” she whispers back.

The wait on their order—a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake for Rayla, a quarter pounder with fries and a coke for Claudia—seems to take forever. It’s probably the fact that they have their backs to Viren and the other two men in the booth, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant, Rayla thinks. It’s her infallible spy instinct that never lets her take her eyes off her mark and let’s her feel guilty about it, when she does. Claudia’s touch is what she chooses to focus on in the meantime; she’s whispering the most silly little things in her ear, her nose and lips brushing against its soft skin as she chuckles during the telling of another story of the stupid things she and Soren got up to when they were small. The hand in her back pocket has ventured upwards and around her middle, brazenly pushing the fabric of her shirt up ever so slightly and pressing warm fingers against the skin there. It’s a game two can play, Rayla thinks with a smirk as she uses her arm around Claudia’s shoulders to pull the girl in close and press an open mouthed kiss to her lips. Claudia melts into it instantly, slumping against Rayla as she smiles into the kiss.

“Cheeky,” she says, her voice so enticingly raspy that it takes some measure of self-control for Rayla to not just dive right back in, losing herself in the kiss and the embrace, and forgetting their entire mission in the process.

“Look who’s talking,” she mutters instead, grinning as Claudia giggles. Then their food is there and Rayla has to let Claudia go for a moment, to take it and find themselves a booth somewhere near Viren.

They both slide into the booth next to each other, Claudia already starting on her burger and Rayla quietly sipping her milkshake as she observes Viren’s back. The two men in front of him look like the ones who had attacked them on the night of the gallery opening and Rayla frowns as one of them pulls out something from his pocket. She narrows her eyes. The lighting in this place is fluorescent and bright, but even outside Rayla would have recognized that chain and that stone, shining a clean silver and a bright blue. Careful not to draw any attention to them, she nudges Claudia.

“Look,” Rayla whispers around the straw. “There it is.”

“Oh my god,” Claudia says with her mouth full. She quickly swallows it down, then faces Rayla. “What do we do?”

“We can’t do anything now,” Rayla mutters. Her eyes stay on the Dragon Egg as she holds the cheeseburger in her hands, pulling at the cheddar where it pokes out from beneath the bun. “Not without giving our identities away, anyway. The next step is to find proof and confront your father.”

***

Claudia knows this place like the back of her hand. Her father’s study has been her favorite room in this house ever since she was little, using it as her hiding spot when playing with Soren, or getting lost in the books her father keeps there, or looking over his shoulder when he drew up proposals for one thing of the other. It feels a little like sacrilege, entering in this place that holds so many dear memories, in order to find proof that her father has been involved in taking the Dragon Egg from her. The necklace that had meant so much, not just in value but for their family, or so her father had made it seem. It’s the uncertainty and the questions that give Claudia the edge to sneak into the room, boot up her dad’s computer and open his mail.

There’s the usual stuff, emails from his work, correspondence with the mayor and council members that Claudia just skims over as she scrolls down. Then, her eyes fall on an email that doesn’t fit the pattern. It’s from an insurance company called Berkshire Hathaway Insurance. With the slightest hesitance, Claudia opens it and starts to read.

She’s not even three sentences in when she realizes this shows exactly what’s been going on. “Oh my god,” Claudia whispers. Then, louder: “Rayla! I found something.” Her lookout is in the office and by Claudia’s side immediately, looking at the screen from over her shoulder. “This is it,” Claudia says, softly.

“Five million bucks?” Rayla breathes once she’s read it all. “He had the necklace insured for five million?”

“Apparently it’s worth that much,” Claudia mutters as she takes a screenshot of the mail, opens an incognito tab and sends it to her own email.

“It all makes sense, now,” Rayla continues. “Why he lent it to you, why he hired me, how those goons were able to find us after the gallery opening. Viren’s trying to get that insurance money without losing the Dragon Egg, or revealing he has anything to do with it.” Claudia closes the screen and turns off the computer, before leaning back in her dad’s office chair and tilting her head back.

“I can’t believe this,” she says, softly, to Rayla’s upside down face. “It’s not like we need the money.” Rayla’s pretty mouth contorts into a grimace and she lays a comforting hand on Claudia’s shoulder.

“I don’t understand it, either,” Rayla says. “I’ve never understood it. Some people have more money they could possibly spend in a lifetime and still want more.” Her grimace turns to a somewhat reassuring smile. “Could you send that email to me, though? I already sent the video recordings of the restaurant to Runaan. This information is safest with him.”

“Video recordings?” Rayla grins and points to her violet eyes. “Oh right. Sure,” Claudia says with a small sigh, as she gets out her phone, finds the file and texts it to Rayla. A part of her wonders what Runaan is going to do with all of the proof they’ve gathered, if he’s going to make a case out of it immediately or if he’s going to wait. But wait for what? Her permission? It’s still her father and though he’s breaking the law left and right, Claudia finds herself a bit apathetic towards whether he gets sentenced for it, or not. Doesn’t everyone make mistakes? On the other hand… her eyes find Rayla once again. She’s typing on her phone in a rapid speed, her purple eyes narrowed and focused, her perfect teeth biting down on her lower lip. Another sigh leaves Claudia’s lungs. The memories of that night come back to her, most of which include Rayla, fiercely taking down men twice her size, but not without getting hit a handful of times, herself.

Her father had done that. Put not only herself and the necklace, but Rayla in danger, too. Determined to do the right thing, no matter her father’s anger or any of the other consequences, Claudia stands up. “Did you send everything?” Rayla nods as she slips her phone back into her pocket.

“Yeah,” she says, as she slides her hand into Claudia’s.

“Send what?” The familiar baritone has Claudia freeze to the spot. In the doorway stands Viren, with his stern brow, downturned mouth and narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here, without my permission?” With dread swirling in her abdomen, Claudia sees her father’s eyes slide from her to Rayla. “And what is she doing here?” Strengthened by Rayla’s warm hand in her own, Claudia frowns.

“Proof that you have the Dragon Egg,” she speaks, resolutely. “Proof of the insurance contract you made for it. Proof that you’ve been colluding with criminals to cash in on it.” Claudia almost expects her father to lie, to make up some sort of excuse on the spot. But her father is a ruthless, honest man.

“Congratulations, Claudia,” he says with the hint of a grin on his mouth, entering the study and sitting down in one of the two seats in front of his desk. “You’ve found me out. What will you do now?” Viren chuckles mirthlessly. “Arrest me.”

“Yes,” Claudia answers without any hesitation. “You seriously endangered both me and Rayla to commit insurance fraud? What’s _wrong_ with you, dad?”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” he says. “I needed the money for the mayor’s reelection campaign, and simply seized an opportunity where I saw one. I haven’t I taught you and your brother to do the same?”

“Well, yes,” Claudia says, remembering the countless nights playing strategic boardgames, with just the three of them. Her dad and she, ganging up on Soren, or she and Soren ganging up on their dad just to see if he could still win. It’s kind of hurts to think about, now. “But you’ve also taught me that family is the most important. Certainly more than money.”

“Don’t be childish, Claudia,” her father tells her as he crosses his legs. “The entire reason I did this is for our family. Mayor Harrow’s position and in turn, my occupation depended on this. Soren and you me, we needed this.”

“We don’t,” Claudia spits out. Her dad’s reasoning is so skewed that he doesn’t even see how _wrong_ it is. It’s infuriating. “And I’m done. I’m having you arrested for this.” Viren only laughs, like she’s a child, playing at doing grown-up things. Rayla’s hand squeezing her own might be the only thing keeping Claudia from stalking over and binding her dad to the chair herself.

“Easy, Claudia,” Rayla murmurs, close to her ear. “Runaan is almost—” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Claudia thinks when Rayla gets cut off by the door slamming open and Runaan marching in, a handful of cops in his wake. “Here,” Rayla finishes lamely.

It’s late when Claudia and Rayla finally manage to get away from it all. Past midnight, probably, Claudia thinks as she tugs Rayla along through her house, up the stairs and to the attic.

“Do you want to smoke again?” Rayla asks as she opens up a window and swings her legs outside.

“Nope,” Claudia answers. She looks back at Rayla, who isn’t wearing her contacts for only the second time since Claudia met her, and whose bright blue eyes are looking at her, filled with compassion and understanding. “I just want to escape for a while,” Claudia whispers at them. Rayla nods quietly and follows dutifully as Claudia turns back around and makes her way up a part of the roof that’s flat. She reaches it easily enough, this being her usual stargazing spot. The stars are out tonight, as well; Orion, the grand, powerful warrior of the sky, looks calmly down upon them from his place in the night sky. He reminds Claudia of her own warrior. When she looks at Rayla, she sees the girl is already looking at her.

“Do you want to be alone?” she asks. “I could leave.” Claudia smiles. One of the many, many things she loves about Rayla is this enormous capacity for empathy, for understanding, that she has. She shifts until she’s sitting as close to Rayla as she can and, almost unconsciously at this point, covers Rayla’s hand with her own.

“Please don’t,” Claudia mumbles. With her free hand, she fishes the Dragon Egg from her pocket and lets it dangle from her fingers. Claudia looks at it, then into Rayla’s blue eyes, then back at the necklace again. Even in the darkness, she can see that they’re the same color, and she can’t help but think that it feels significant, somehow.

“I hope you know I’m not going to get it if you drop it from up here,” Rayla mutters. Claudia snorts, glancing at the blue stone one last time before stuffing it back in her pocket and turning so that she faces Rayla.

“Honestly,” she says, “I don’t think I would let you leave.” The grin on Rayla’s face is immediate.

Then there’s only silence, and only the two of them beneath the stars, and Claudia feels like nothing else, not even the Dragon Egg, truly matters apart from Rayla’s lips on hers, as she leans in and kisses her.

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna support me come find me on twitter @aryastabme, or buy me a coffee !! https://ko-fi.com/poetroe


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